


Fanservice 101

by boonies



Category: Dong Bang Shin Ki
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-01
Updated: 2012-11-01
Packaged: 2017-11-17 13:42:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/552177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boonies/pseuds/boonies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Management wants a Secret Garden parody.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fanservice 101

"But Big Bang already _did_ one," Changmin scowls.

 

"You'll do it better," their manager says haughtily, dropping a script onto the coffee table.

 

"How can we do it _better_ ," Changmin points out, legs crossed at the ankle, "when there's only two of us."

 

Their manager pauses, looking almost repentant. "They just... basically want you to do the cappuccino kiss. Thing. With the foam. And the kissing."

 

Changmin narrows his eyes. "And the pandering."

 

Their manager opens his mouth to protest but Yunho shifts on the couch.

 

"We'll do it," he says and Changmin knows that look.

 

He knows it means _one year left on the contract_ ; knows it means _get the fuck up and practice;_ knows it means _take the mic and say something already_.

 

Most importantly, Changmin knows it means _you stayed, so you'll do this_.

 

"Fine," Changmin mutters, "but I'm not playing the girl."

 

*

 

"I'm serious," Changmin's warns as they descend the stairs. "I'll quit if you make me be the girl."

 

Yunho shoulders past him in silence.

 

*

 

"Don't you _dare_ make me the girl," Changmin repeats in the car, huffing against the window.

 

Yunho remains silent.

 

*

 

"You're shorter," Changmin mumbles frantically the second they're ushered into the dressing room. "You should be the girl."

 

Yunho glares at him, briefly, then fixes his gaze on the mirror in front of them. "Did you even read the script?"

 

Annoyed, Changmin sinks in his chair, hair flopping over his forehead. "I saw the show. And every damn parody after. It's been two years," he rambles. "Why won't they just fucking let it go."

 

Yunho smiles sweetly at the stylist noona fluttering about his shoulders, gritting out, "Watch your language, Changdola."

 

Changmin wants to throw a brush at that stupid smug face. Or a makeup chair. Or a bus.

 

"I'm going to eat four cloves of garlic," he threatens, trying to figure out if that's even a thing that's possible. "And a jar of kimchi. And two blocks of cheese."

 

Yunho makes a face. "Yeah, like being kissed by you isn't going to be gross enough."

 

Changmin stops bitching, grins brilliantly, swivels in his chair. "Wait. I get to play the guy?"

 

"Apparently."

 

*

 

Cross-dressing is hilarious.

 

It shouldn't be, because Changmin's a proper adult. He's mature and responsible and professional, but fuck if there isn't a part of him that's perpetually twelve. The part that finds dudes in skirts absolutely just the most ridiculous fucking thing ever. The part that's cackling maniacally at the mere thought of Yunho following in Kyu's footsteps.

 

Seriously, on his deathbed, Changmin's going to gather all of Kyuhyun's grandchildren and give them a powerpoint presentation, all: _This is your grandfather. This is your grandfather in a dress. This is your grandfather in heels._

 

His ribs still sort of hurt every time he remembers that idiot, up on stage, practically on display before the entire world, all gangly and homicidal, stomping away in stilettos, boxer-briefs flashing the audience.

 

Just... fuck.

 

It was _funny_.

 

This, though.

 

This isn't funny at all.

 

Yunho's not funny.

 

Yunho is...

 

"Beautiful," the stylist noona sighs wistfully.

 

"Gross," Changmin chimes in, but his voice is all soft and weird and curious.

 

It's not like Yunho even looks all that fucking different. His hair's just a little longer—a messy crop down to his ears, with an oversized beanie placed atop. More makeup than usual, shinier lips, shinier cheeks, just shinier everything.

 

"You look like Tiffany."

 

Yunho rubs at his eye tiredly, smudging the kohl. "Thanks?"

 

"Not a compliment."

 

*

 

"Wow," Changmin deadpans. "They're not even trying."

 

Yunho glances around, gaze moving over a familiar set. "Eh."

 

"No, seriously," Changmin insists, pointing wildly at the paneling. "It's like they kept the set just for our comeback." Carefully, he sits down opposite Yunho at the round table, coffee mugs already strategically placed by Yunho's hands. "They... didn't keep the set just for our comeback, did they."

 

"There may have been a poll," Yunho says absentmindedly.

 

Changmin scrunches up his face. "What?"

 

Yunho avoids his gaze. "On who should do this."

 

Eyes narrowed to suspicious slits, Changmin asks, "On who should make out, you mean?"

 

"We're not going to make out," Yunho grumbles, in a way that's mostly an order. "You're just going to... do your thing and I'm going to think about puppies."

 

Changmin's knees knock together, gut twisting. "Can't we just break Heechul out and get him to do this? He'd love a crack at you anyway."

 

Yunho snorts, then rearranges his hoodie with a cough. "Even Henry's kissing everyone now. Fans are desensitized to their antics, I guess."

 

"But not _ours_?"

 

A random PD in training scurries by them, checking marks and angles. "In five."

 

Changmin's pulse speeds up.

 

*

 

 Cocky is easy.

 

Cocky is what Changmin's used to. Cocky is what sells tickets. Cocky is what drives album downloads. And he's been acting long enough to feel comfortable kissing anyone, anything, girls, guys, a paper bag, anything.

 

And a kiss is, like, a fraction of a second. A tiny, irrelevant thing, forgotten as soon as it's over.

 

He can do this.

 

But Yunho's staring at him.

 

Yunho's undivided attention is too much, has always been too much. Yunho's too single-minded, too focused, too unguarded, and Changmin can't handle it. Ten years in, and he's still not immune.

 

It's not like Yunho is polio and Changmin can just get vaccinated against him.

 

"I forgot my line, shit," he mutters and Yunho blinks at him.

 

And then his lips curl up, eyes crinkling at the corners. "Changminnie forgot his lines, sorry, everyone," he yells out to the crew as though the boom operator isn't hovering behind them.

 

The crew sags collectively and a writer noona promptly holds up a script. "Changmin-ssi: _that's so dirty_."

 

Burning with humiliation and probably maybe partially other things, too, Changmin gives a curt nod and grips the thick edge of the table.

 

"That's so dirty," he parrots halfheartedly and rises, chair scraping against the linoleum.

 

He just sort of recklessly aims for Yunho's face and dives in.

 

And misses.

 

'Cause Yunho jerks away, out of range.

 

"Sorry," he tells Changmin, kinda sheepishly.

 

Changmin purses his lips.

 

Worse than having to kiss Yunho is having to kiss a squirming Yunho.

 

Not thinking, Changmin grabs Yunho's face to hold it in place and smacks his lips against Yunho's.

 

Yunho kicks him under the table.

 

Breathing harshly, Changmin glares until the PD ventures a hesitant, "Um, yes, that was... well, not great, but we have all day?"

 

Someone's gonna lose a tooth if they have to do this all day. Maybe a limb.

 

With a deep, calming breath, Yunho composes himself, gaze fixed on the table.

 

"Changmin," he says softly.

 

Changmin's stomach flips.

 

Yunho looks up, all apologetic and sorry and with those stupid thick eyelashes.

 

Slowly, Changmin nods.

 

Without a word, he sits back down, waits for the PD to call out action, then delivers his line with just the right amount of disinterest and silent longing, and rises. His chair slides across the floor perfectly. He leans across the table like a pro.

 

And then he kisses Yunho.

 

And kinda doesn't stop.

 

*

 

There's a horrible, awkward, super uncomfortable silence when they pile into the car.

 

Changmin scoots into the far left corner, doesn't even buckle himself in because he wants to just squish himself against the glass and disappear.

 

Yunho's just quiet.

 

Sitting normally. Buckled in. Checking his phone, sunglasses in place.

 

They're halfway home before Yunho breaks the silence.

 

"Thanks for not freaking out."

 

"Same," Changmin mumbles.

 

Silence stretches for another couple of blocks and then Yunho says, "We could add it to our Bibari & Rui bit."

 

Changmin freezes.

 

"Yeah," he manages to reply but just barely. "Yeah. Like, once per performance. To make the fans happy."

 

Yunho slips his sunglasses off to give Changmin a dubious look.

 

"What?" Changmin defends. "I love our fans."

 

Yunho looks unconvinced.

 

"So," Changmin offers, a little too eagerly. "Do you wanna start with the next concert or..."

 

"Tomorrow?" Yunho blinks, startled. He takes a moment to process this, then laughs so hard Changmin feels a tug at his lips. "Honestly, Changmin-ah, I thought," he says, shoulders shaking with repressed laughter, "from the things you've been telling everyone, I'd be the _last_ person you'd want to kiss."

 

Changmin almost says _because I wouldn't be able to stop_ , but shrugs instead. "It's just fanservice."

 

"You hate fanservice."

 

"It's only for one more year, so."

 

Yunho observes him for a long moment. "Kyu's gonna make fun of you forever."

 

Cringing, Changmin glances at their driver's head, obscured by the dark glass partition.

 

Kyu's definitely going to make fun of him forever. He'll probably assemble all his friends and relatives and demo his own powerpoint presentation: _This is Changmin. This is Changmin kissing a man. This is Changmin stupidly in love with a man._

 

"At least I wasn't the girl," he says at last and glances at Yunho.

 

Yunho's gaze is warm.

 

Changmin almost kisses him again.

 

"Yeah, okay," Yunho says, "we can start tomorrow."

 

Casually, Changmin buckles himself in. His knee knocks against Yunho's, his shoulder presses into Yunho's, his side just sort of fits into Yunho's.

 

And it only took ten years.


End file.
